Coming Undone
by Vicious-Loner
Summary: The dark room looked like the site of a savage battle and, in a sense, that’s exactly what it had been. GrimmUlqui yaoi, gory smutfic.


Inspired by and written to Seether's FMLYHM(Fuck me like you hate me). Part of the lyrics are scrambled to fit the story. Including the full lyrics is just bulky and unnecessary, and it doesn't fit the story either.

The first time I heard FMLYHM I thought of Grimmjow and the idea for this piece grew from there. I wanted a gory GrimmUlqui smutfic with lots of blood, but I'm wondering if it's bloody enough. Can't seem to make it bloodier without changing too much though. Oh well, it turned out pretty nice regardless, and I hope you'll enjoy it.

**Warning:** PWP, yaoi, gore and some vulgar language.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Bleach, nor do I claim any rights to Seether and their songs.

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**Coming undone**

The dark room looked like the site of a savage battle and, in a sense, that's exactly what it had been. There was blood and debris scattered everywhere, the walls had several large dents in them and one was about to crumble altogether. In the middle of it all lay Grimmjow on his stomach; naked, armless and bleeding. Most of the blood found in the room was his. And it felt so good. All the shame and humiliation that followed his demotion from the Espada was gone for the moment, and that's all that mattered. He was completely undone, all the layers of confidence, attitude and ego scattered with his blood. All that remained was the core of his being, the lust for blood and battle satiated.

'_Don't make a sound till I come undone'_

Grimmjow doesn't mind his state of mental undress because he knows Ulquiorra is in a similar state, and that makes it all worth it. He doesn't quite remember how he managed to piss off Ulquiorra so badly the smaller arrancar began to kick him across the room, but he knows that's where everything began.

'_You come around when you find me faithless'_

'_You come around when you find me faceless'_

And of course he just _had_ to goad him along, taunt him further, make him want to break Grimmjow. Break him and put him in his place once and for all. Neither of them could've known it'd break Ulquiorra too. Maybe he should've seen it coming, he wasn't really easy to break after all. Stubborn and prideful like few.

'_You'll never break me'_

He doesn't remember when the violent quasi-cat-and-mouse-fight got a sexual edge to it but he does remember getting excited by Ulquiorra's eagerness to chase and kick him around. The small Espada had an astounding amount of power in his slim form, far more than the fuck-faced fifth Espada, Nnoitra. Grimmjow really liked to think he was stronger and better than Ulquiorra because of the fourth's reluctance to fight unnecessary fights and to kill what he deemed to be 'trash'. Bullshit, what's life if not fighting and killing?

'_Remnant of a vacant life'_

He remembers the feeling of Ulquiorra's slim hand embedded between his collarbones while the crumbling wall dug into his back. He coughed blood as his right hand, his only hand, grabbed Ulquiorra's collar and he forced himself closer until their noses almost touched.

'_Fuck me like you hate me'_

He'd dared the Cuatro Espada to try and break him, break his spirit. By any means he wanted to. And Ulquiorra was too agitated with his constant insubordination and too excited by the fight to say no and walk away. Just beat him and leave him like the trash he was. That's when they passed the point of no return.

'_Dig it up, tear it down'_

Ulquiorra had responded by ripping out the embedded hand and replacing it with sharp teeth and a tantalizing tongue. Of course Ulquiorra knew the best way to make someone feel used, abused and filthy was to rape them. And better yet, make them enjoy it. He couldn't have known Grimmjow secretly wanted it to drown out the shame and humiliation with the pain and pleasure, and to satiate his twisted sense of loneliness. He couldn't have known, or he wouldn't have done it.

'_Dig it up and hold me out'_

Grimmjow grunted and ground his teeth as Ulquiorra bit, licked and probed the large wound below his neck while grinding their hips together in a suggestive manner. It was hard to breathe, every breath was raspy and full of warm, fluid copper. The hand on the slim collar moved to clasp long black strands but was quickly snatched and pinned beside his head in a crushing grip. The fingers of Ulquiorra's right hand dug into a chiseled side, thumb inside Grimmjow's hollow hole, to keep him still. Didn't keep him from trying though. A counter-grind of his hips got him shoved a half foot deeper into the wall. A dip of head to lick some blood off Ulquiorra's lips got him thrown across the room with enough force for it to hurt but the wall was still intact. Barely. Another attempted lick got him his shirt ripped and himself pinned to the floor on his stomach. And Ulquiorra was just as excited as he was. The bone mask on his cheek scraped uncomfortably against the hard floor as he turned his head to rasp out a wet, defiant taunt. He just had to point out the smaller, stronger arrancar's obvious enjoyment.

'_You come around when you finally face this'_

'_You come around when you find me faceless'_

That got him thoroughly ground into the floor, a small but hard erection pressing onto his ass. He grunted, panted, coughed and choked on his own blood. His hakama got ripped off with enough force to fling him some distance across the floor. The moment of stillness that followed gave Grimmjow a chance to regain his bearings and assess the damage he'd taken thus far. It wasn't too bad, it hurt to breathe but he'd live. Ulquiorra wanted to break him, not kill him, so he'd survive, the little bastard would make sure of it.

'_Fuck me like you hate me'_

His sandals and socks were gently taken off and he tried to crawl away from the smooth touches on his feet. It creeped him out. A slim and somewhat gentle hand wound itself into his hair and stroked his neck in a way that made him gasp and shudder. It was almost disgusting how good it felt. The hand dragged him up on his knees and slowly bent him backwards. Ulquiorra breathed in his ear, more ragged and husky than he had ever imagined. His spine was starting to protest with the strain when a sharp stab of pain tore him apart from the inside. He cried out hoarsely, mostly from surprise. The hand in his hair kept him bent at a painful angle, he was staring at a crumbling wall upside-down and the small Espada was using their differences in size to fit himself right behind Grimmjow. The little bastard even dug his other hand into Grimmjow's chest rather than placing it on the floor, meaning Grimmjow had to support both of the weights. And his one hand couldn't find the floor.

'_Dig it up, tear it down'_

Grimmjow ground his teeth and grunted as Ulquiorra drew out of him completely and then brutally tore him apart again, searching to go deeper, and the hand on his chest went down to grip his hardened member, coating it in his own blood. The grip lessened as Ulquiorra drew out again but returned harder than before at the next brutal thrust. Another thrust that went deeper still struck something that made Grimmjow's vision momentarily black out. He wasn't even aware that the hoarse, strangled shout of pain and pleasure was his. The spot was struck again.

'_Dig it up and hold me out'_

The strain on his back lessened and he was thrown away, picked up and mockingly thrown away again. Battle instinct made him roll up on all three. The sight of a naked and very aroused Ulquiorra partially covered in blood was as odd a sight as it was exciting. Those large emerald eyes held an almost luminous glint that made him shudder. It seemed as if Ulquiorra was trying so hard to break him that the Cuatro Espada's normally unbreakable indifference started to crumble from the strain. Grimmjow pulled together his bleeding and aching body and pounced. He wanted to fight, he wanted to gain the upper hand, he wanted to win. The fact that Ulquiorra was a lot stronger than him didn't even register, he just wanted to fight and be high on adrenaline, pain and pleasure.

'_You'll never break me'_

Everything after that was a blur of blood, pain and pleasure. He was thrown and kicked around, ground into the floor, smothered against the walls, stroked, scraped, scratched, tongued, torn apart and fucked senseless. He fought and rebelled all he could, tried to give something back, but Ulquiorra was merciless, relentless. Almost every bone in his hand was crushed, he had innumerous little holes from Ulquiorra's fingers all over his body down to his knees, and he was choking and almost drowning in his own blood.

'_You could've been the only one'_

'_The broken down and sick one'_

He vaguely remembers his knees hitting the floor and the adamant but unspoken command; _Please me_. He remembers focusing all his remaining reiatsu into his mouth to bite down and draw blood, his tongue smearing more blood around the small hollow hole than it lapped up. A sharp pain stabbed his abdomen as Ulquiorra shoved his bloodied erection along the frayed upper wall of Grimmjow's hollow hole as punishment. He remembers biting again just to feel it once more, flesh against sensitive flesh, blood and pain and pleasure and the oddly erotic grinding against his hollow hole. He wanted more of it, more of it all.

'_I love the sound when you come undone'_

He remembers another round of getting kicked around and ground into the floor, but most of all he remembers the sounds Ulquiorra no longer could suppress, sounds of pleasure and annoyance. The defiant light in Grimmjow's eyes just refused to go out, he refused to stop fighting and rebelling.

And then everything was dark and silent. The all encompassing climax had drained them both, squeezed the last of their emotional energy, leaving them dry and empty.

He vaguely remembers the warmth of Ulquiorra's body against his back. He was too tired to cough up the blood seeping into his lungs, letting it spill down his throat and out of his mouth with every breath. His eyes were slightly open but he could still not see the floor in front of him, his vision swimming and unfocused. He felt empty and free, unbound by attitude and ego, all his lusts satiated. Nothing existed but the here and now.

He doesn't know when Ulquiorra regained enough strength to leave, and he doesn't really care either. He knows it'll be a long time before anyone finds him here; Ulquiorra is in no hurry today and this remote part of Las Noches is rarely visited by anyone.

So he just lies there on the cracked floor in a pool of his own blood and soaks in the feeling of being completely undone, completely unbound by anything but gravity. And he loves that feeling.

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Comments and criticism are welcome, flames will be used to keep me warm when the snow comes. Any suggestions, questions or challenges you might have are also welcome.

~Vicious


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